Drunk in Paris

I was so nervous as I sat on the plane, don’t get me wrong I was absolutely over the moon to see him again but God I was nervous. The in flight movie was a ridiculous cheap comedy about a man waking up one morning as a woman. I had resorted to reading some of my trusty Rousseau, but then, like the hopeless romantic loser I had become, Baudelaire had crept out of my bag and found its way into my hands. Even before I started to scan my beloved poems I had read Billie’s short note four times over.
I couldn’t wait to run my fingers through his black hair stare dotingly into those electric green eyes and feel his strong arms around my body again. Speaking to him for hours every day wasn’t the same as being with him, we would talk about nothing and everything and I soon found myself praying for the phone to ring just so I could feel closer to him. No one could compare to him.
My eyes traced the poem Hymn to Beauty and I found myself smiling at each word, the man in the seat next to me glancing nervously at me like I was on crack. I didn’t care though; each individual letter reminded me of him…

Do you come from Heaven or rise from the abyss,
Beauty? Your gaze, divine and infernal,
Pours out confusedly benevolence and crime,
And one may for that, compare you to wine.
You contain in your eyes the sunset and the dawn;
You scatter perfumes like a stormy night;
Your kisses are a philtre, your mouth an amphora,
Which make the hero weak and the child courageous.

I nervously stepped through the arrivals gate, my hair flustered and my dress creased from the eight hour flight. My black heels clacked against the plastic floor as I dragged my wheeled suitcase behind me. I turned the corner, time descending into slow motion as my heart beat quickened in my chest. I felt like I would vomit, I was so nervous and anxious at the same time. God this never normally happened to me at all.
I stared at the crowd waiting in the arrivals section of the airport. My heart suddenly flew up into my throat and a thumping emerged through the back of my skull as I searched to see any traces of black spikes amongst the heads of the people.
I saw nothing and as the crowd began to disperse my stomach dropped at the thought of me being abandoned at the airport like a discarded puppy.
Suddenly a figure leaning against the wall on tip-toes caught my eye. It was him. He was craning his neck, stretching to his full height as he glanced over the crowd in black sunglasses. He wore a black leather jacket and long scruffy shorts, he looked adorable.
I grinned as he caught sight of me, a smile emerging on his face. I headed over to him through the crowds, the noise of my heels becoming more and more brisk as my speed quickened and I suddenly found myself thrown forwards into his arms.
He laughed as he stumbled backwards slightly, his sunglasses shifting across his face with the force of my pounce.
“Hi!” He smiled as I pulled away.
“Hi.” I grinned back suddenly becoming shy as he fixed the dark lenses that covered his eyes. I must admit it was strange seeing him in these surroundings, it made him slightly different.
“How was your flight?” He asked making for my suitcase and heading for the exit of the airport.
“Okay I suppose.” I smiled, following him at a small distance.
“We should get something to eat, I don’t know about you but I’m starving and air-line food makes me sick.”
I grinned, “Sounds great.”
I pursued him out into the car park, the heat hitting me straight away. I gasped at the shiny black car that he stopped next to.
“Wow.” I whispered helping him lift my case into the trunk.
“Like it?” he smiled as I furiously nodded.
“Good, coz it has no seatbelts.”
I laughed as he opened the door for me and trotted around to the driver’s seat.
“I know a great little place round the corner, best damn olive burgers around.”
“I don’t believe I’ve ever had an olive burger.” I smiled as he started the car and pulled out the parking lot.
“Ava you haven’t lived!” he laughed, turning on the radio and nodding his head as he drove.
I turned and watched him, taking in all his familiar features that I remembered so closely. It was strange as I suddenly felt so reserved around him and I couldn’t think why.

“Are you sure you okay? That flight didn’t mess you up or anything? You seem kinda quiet”
He glanced at me for a moment. I shifted against the leather seat, making it creak.
“I just realised that your hair is a little longer and you look a little skinner since I last saw you in Paris.”
Billie’s lip curled into a small smile, “That’s the reason why were fuelling up on olive burgers.”
I chuckled and shrugged, “Its just weird seeing you again I guess.”
“Well your hair is slightly longer too” he smirked at the road ahead of us, “And it’s only weird because you probably didn’t think I would actually act upon my invitation to get you out here. But I keep my promises.”
I turned to look at the road through the windshield, he was right, now I was here I couldn’t quite believe it.
“You better be right about these olive burgers…” I muttered.

Twenty minutes later, I had relaxed as Billie was stuffing his face with the remainder of his precious olive burger. I had to admit, they were pretty good.
“So, yeah, that was a complete pain in the ass and then, then, Dee goes, its fine Billie Joe, Brandon Flowers wore a pink suite. Pink! As if!”
I giggled, “I have no idea who Brandon Flowers is but he has a very appealing name.”
Billie smirked, “He’s a singer in a band called The Killers.”
“How original, are they very, err, loud and criminal like?”
Billie laughed, “Their front man apparently wears baby pink suits, so...”
“Ah! Says it all” I smirked, “but…I thought people like you did whatever their stylists told them too.”
Billie smirked, “Just because I have a stylist it doesn’t make me a spoilt famous drama queen.”
I snorted, “Oh really? I recall a phone call being interrupted for a whole 15 minutes last Thursday because Tre had robbed your eyeliner.”
Billie chuckled as he slurped from his milkshake, “That’s different.”
I giggled into my French fries, thoroughly enjoying the fact that I was sitting in this small café that Charles would have a heart attack over if he knew it’s where Billie had chosen to take me for lunch. But I adored its cheap plastic table and soft faux leather booths, I adored its greasy fries and frothy milkshakes, because being with him made them more special than iced champagne and shiny oak tables under candlelight.
Billie eyed me for a moment, “I confess I have an extra incentive for taking you to lunch.”
I looked up at him as he put down his milkshake, “And what was that? A test to see what the sheltered English girl can handle?”
He smirked that delightfully sexy smile, “No, well that too but…in all seriousness I have something to tell you.”
I swallowed, my eyes growing wide in interest, “And what might that be?”
Billie leant back into his seat, “Well, I haven’t been entirely honest with you…I…I don’t live by myself.”
I tilted my head, desperate to know more.
“I…I live with my two sons, Joey and Jacob.”
I sat up straight, taking in this new piece of information, feeling strange that I wasn’t shocked.
“Oh…” I whispered.
Billie looked at me intensely, obviously trying to read my face.
“How old are they?”
“Well Joe is nearly 13 and Jake is 10”
I nodded as he reached around for his wallet in his back pocket, bringing out a photograph.
“That’s Joe and that’s Jake.”
“They’re beautiful” I smiled, staring at their faces that looked so similar to their father.
He grinned, “I know, but they can be right little sods when they wanna be.”
I chuckled.
“So…you don’t mind?” he asked, eyebrow rising slightly.
“What? No, of course not.” I smiled, crossing over my legs under the table.
Billie grinned at me.
“What happens when you’re away?” I asked, sipping on my drink.
“My mom has them” he sighed almost sadly, “I don’t get to see them as much as I would like to, but, they’re good, they understand.”
I nodded, “So they’re mother is…”
“Adrienne, yeah.” His brilliant green eyes faded slightly and I reached forwards to grip his hand.
“Will they be okay? With me coming to stay I mean?”
Billie looked up, his thumb catching hold my index finger.
“Yeah, yeah, of course Ava, they have no choice either.”
I grinned as he glanced around the table.
“You ready to go?”
“Sure” I nodded as we both stood up and left the café.
“I’m glad you didn’t freak, because I don’t know what I would have done if you did.” Billie smiled as we drove to his house.
“Why would I freak, although I can’t quite believe you have a teenage son.”
“Neither can I, I tell ya.”
“I thought you would have had a grandchild at least.” I laughed.
“Hey, un called for Crawford, uncalled for.” He frowned playfully.
The car turned the corner and I suddenly felt a pit of worry grow in my stomach, I hoped to God his kids liked me, what would I do if they thought I was trying to become their new replacement mother?